His heart twisted in his chest at the confusion etched across her face. Even if she had behaved poorly, he should never have scolded her like a fishwife. As his anger faded, her confusion followed, leaving a hopeful sort of trust behind. He motioned her forward and they walked the gravel path in silence. A stone bench sat on the edge of the pond and he pointed to it.
They took a seat and stared out over the water. Elbows on his knees, he bent forward and waited for her to speak.
“I’ve spoken with the officers,” she said. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “I explained I had recently been kidnapped and you had locked my door for my safety. If I’m not mistaken, they seemed to understand.”
“No doubt they believe you’ve lost your mind and feel sorry for me for keeping you by my side.” He hid his smile.
“No doubt,” she said with humor, relieving him further. He relaxed and mentally kicked himself for his earlier tantrum.
He turned on the bench. Her stare caused him to think about their relationship. Sometimes he felt like a father and her the wayward child. “I do wish you would learn how to speak in a public setting. It is entirely uncomfortable to explain our personal affairs to the world.”
“Quite so. I must admit that, although I remember very few details of my marriage and coming here, I do seem to remember that I have a vague issue with my temperament.”
“Vague?” He cocked a brow and she slapped his arm playfully. His heart raced at her touch and he moved a stray strand of hair behind her ear. A red hue dotted her cheeks and he grabbed her hand and squeezed.
“Perhaps not so vague.” She sighed and lifted her chin. “I do fear my greatest fault is my temper and perhaps my mouth in general. It seems you in particular are able to fire me up.”
He didn’t reply but instead studied her. Today she wore a gown of pale pink. A filmy scarf was tucked around her neckline. Curls hung about her face and bobbed with her movements. She shivered; she had run out without a shawl or Spencer jacket.
Luke removed his outer coat and draped it over her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said shyly.
Unexplained contentment filled him. “You mustn’t forget to wear a pelisse when you come out. The weather is quite cool this time of year.”
“I shall endeavor to remember.”
She snuggled to his side and he wrapped his arm around her.
****
Chadwick drummed his fingers on the tabletop in the library. A clock ticked annoyingly. A small fire burned in the grate and waving sunlight streamed through the paned-glass windows. All his friends had left for prior engagements and the silence of the house added to his anxiety.
The paper in front of him set his heart pounding, causing cold fingers of fear to shiver up his spine. A letter from Roland, it had arrived the afternoon before and it still had him on edge. He lifted the page and read it for the third time.
Sir,
My trip to London has been delayed and while I hesitate to write it seems the only way I can reach you with haste. Brigitta was recently found in the west wing. By some miracle, she lost her memory. Luke has also returned and has assumed his role as baron.
Sources in the manse have written to me with even more disturbing news. Brigitta believes she is married to Luke. He has willingly accepted this and seems to be encouraging the relationship. In fact, he created an entire wedding party out of tourists to renew “vows” only Brigitta fainted and left him standing at the altar.
As much as it wounds me that these things have happened in your absence, perhaps they are for the best. Your brother can hardly cause an uproar, as he is set to marry a woman he is already considered married to.
I highly suggest you continue your stay in London until the wedding has occurred. I, myself, have requited myself in the village until it seems prudent to return.
Your lifelong servant, Roland
The page fluttered to the desk and Chadwick considered replying, but stayed his hand. The news relayed by Roland meant he was truly free. Perhaps it was time to accept Zilla’s proposal after all.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Letta, whatever will I wear? Everything must be perfect.”
“My lady, you are beautiful no matter what the gown.”
“You are too kind, but really, help me choose. Should I go with the aquamarine color or the peach silk?”
In just a short time the dance with the officers would begin. The staff expected a crowd and the scent of fresh flowers and baking party treats wafted up the stairs to her room. Discarded gowns piled atop her bed, a rainbow of colors considered, but refused. Brigitta had tried on every gown at least twice and still could not decide. Her head ached with anxiety. If only the evening could be a happy one, spent at the side of her husband, then she would be content.
“My lady, if you are truly asking for my opinion, then I like the aquamarine. The color matches your eyes. The peach makes you look too pale.”
“Bless you, Letta.” Brigitta grabbed the gown and dressed. Lace covered her cleavage and white satin gloves ran the length of her arms.
Letta managed her unruly locks like an expert. Instead of pulling up all her hair, which was so often the custom, she allowed most of it to lie across her shoulders, only pulling up a few strands and placing them in a clip atop her head.
The mirror reflected a woman of breeding and refinement. Brigitta only hoped it showed when she opened her mouth.
Patiently, she waited for escort to the ballroom below but no one came. Letta had long since left and she sat alone staring at the flames. The wood cracked, hissed, and popped. Ashes drifted into the room and scattered across the floor. The flames mesmerized her and she fought a tinge of remembrance as it tugged at her mind.
“Brigitta?”
Startled, she blinked. Luke knelt before her, his brows drawn together with worry.
“Are you all right? You looked to be in a trance.”
“Yes, I’m all right.” She stood and held to his arm to keep from toppling forward as the room swayed around her. She wished it would stop. Concern etched his features and she assured him, “I’ll be fine. I just sat too long, is all.”
With a firm hand supporting her elbow, he escorted her to the ballroom. Officers swirled around with ladies in tow. Candlelight glittered off jewelry and silks. The musicians played from the minstrels’ gallery. The room was cheerful and inviting with brilliant colors and vivid red coats. Luke insisted she find a seat but she countered his argument with a dance request. He bowed and she accepted his outstretched arm.
Together and apart, together and apart, they moved. The music infected her with delight and giddiness and her head cleared. As they drew close, she said, “The staff planned a lovely party in so short a time.”
“Indeed.”
“And the ladies who have come are extraordinary. Who knew so many could be summoned on such a short notice.”
“I assume these are the young ladies scheming for husbands. Men in the area are in short supply.”
“I had no idea,” said Brigitta, a smile twitching at her lips.
They finished the dance and took a seat. Gathered in groups, the officers and young ladies conversed as footmen served the musicians punch. Luke left her to retrieve refreshments and Brigitta discreetly listened in on the colonel, chatting with a lovely lady wearing a cerulean gown with outlandish sleeves. She tired of their bland conversation and turned her attention to another officer, who bent over a young woman with an ample bosom, his gaze widening at his view.
Brigitta covered her laughter and peered through the crowd to see Luke in the crush around the punchbowl, playing host while he fetched her an ice. Seemed he might be a while.
She sighed and patted her foot to the beat of the music. An officer named Ollerton, his uniform askew, wobbled into the crowd with the colonel. Brigitta palmed her chin as she eavesdropped.
“You would not know this was the same place,” said one of the ladies.
The c
olonel replied, “Indeed, it is not as I had expected.”
“The past arguments between the baron and baroness are legendary.”
“I understand there was a mishap recently.”
An elderly gentleman interjected. “Yes, indeed. And it has been terrible for all of us. The estate is such a drain on the tenants, with the extra rents and all, and the arguments between the couple brought in a steady amount of traffic and income. Why, now I guess we will be forced to make up the money to support the estate ourselves.” He finished, fanned his flushed face, and pushed his daughter toward Ollerton.
Ollerton hiccupped and winked. Brigitta covered a giggle and continued to watch with a sideways glance.
The young lady whispered, “Father, I’ve already danced with everyone of interest.”
“Who cares? These are eligible bachelors. Get thee on the dance floor.”
The lady went reluctantly.
The colonel frowned, presumably at the father’s display, but then directed the subject back to the original topic as the young lady and Ollerton scooted onto the dance floor. “Does the baron not have his own money?”
“It is rumored he receives eight thousand pounds a year from the ten per cents, but apparently he doesn’t use it to keep up the estate. Many people have left his tenancy because of the high rents. In fact, my family thought of doing so as well, but we’ve lived here for generations and I couldn’t force myself to quit my home.”
The joviality Brigitta felt with the earlier discourse was tainted by the startling new revelations. Her vision swam and she cradled her head. The colonel and his cohorts moved away and another group moved in, causing Brigitta to stumble into another conversation.
“This place is not as I expected,” said a young man.
“And what did you expect?” asked the girl, twittering her fan over her barely concealed cleavage.
“Do not misunderstand, the house and grounds are precisely as described, except perhaps more grand, but the baroness is much calmer than we were led to believe.”
“The incident has changed her and the baron. Once at odds, they now appear to be lovers in good rapport.”
Heat flushed Brigitta’s face at overhearing what the locals thought of her. She leaned her ear in another direction only to hear her name called. Across the room, Luke approached, but he wasn’t alone. A couple, perhaps local landowners, elegantly dressed in the latest fashions, stood beside him. Luke crooked his finger in her direction as if urging her to join them. She left her comfortable seat grudgingly.
“Yes, dear,” she said, fluttering her lashes at Luke’s companions.
“I would like for you to meet a couple of my friends. This is Thomas Morrison and his wife, Janet. They’ve just arrived from London and wish to stay with us for a few days.”
“Delightful. We can always use another lady in the house.”
Janet nodded and Thomas said, “Janet could use the company. I fear with my extensive traveling, she has few opportunities to make friends.”
Brigitta joined arms with Janet. “I’m sure we will be the best of friends, don’t you think?” With casual steps, she led her away from the two men, laughing voices diminishing behind them into the party’s noise. “Tell me, how is London this time of year?” Brigitta carried on a polite conversation.
“Boring, terribly boring. There is nothing but party after party. Thomas is always running off and hunting or fishing with some buddy of his whilst I’m forced to entertain the wife.”
“Oh, I see,” said Brigitta, relaxing her hold and allowing Janet to slip away, taken aback by such obvious rudeness.
Janet whipped out her fan. “Of course, I never complain, because such is the life of a wife. We must help our husbands in any way we can.”
Brigitta watched the fan move erratically as if it attempted to match the mood swings of its owner.
Janet chattered on, unaware of her continued rudeness. “But I don’t have to tell you this. You know all too well the sacrifices needed to manage a household.”
“Excuse me?”
Janet slapped the fan against Brigitta’s arm. “Don’t play dumb with me. Everyone believes the disappearance caused you to forget your womanly duties within the Stockport manse, but I know better.”
“I don’t follow.”
Janet laughed. “You are too much. Everyone knows the baron only married you because of your vivacious temper. Your entire reason for being is to draw in tourists and money.”
Brigitta grabbed her chest and backed away. Janet cocked one brow and shook her head.”Don’t try to get sympathy from me.”
“I don’t understand,” said Brigitta as she stumbled into Luke.
“Are you all right?” he whispered in her ear. “You look pale.”
In light of the common viewpoint of her, the genuine concern in his voice served to strengthen her resolve. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and said, “I’m perfectly fine. Would you like to dance?”
She glanced over her shoulder and took a measure of delight from Janet’s insulted expression at deliberately being left alone. She thought about sticking out her tongue, but bit it instead, not wanting to disappoint Luke.
They strode onto the floor. As they moved together, the look on his face was one of genuine pleasure. He smiled at her. He flirted with her. Verbally he refused several offers for her to dance with others. The night wore on and Brigitta forced herself to forget the overheard words and Janet’s rumors. No way did Luke have problems with her. They would never argue in public again, for it would affect the appearance and reputation of Stockport. No, the officers, guests, and Janet must be wrong. It was the only possible explanation.
****
Luke had tried to keep Brigitta from hearing rumors about the tours, but he knew she’d overheard something. Her posture stiffened, she seemed reflective, and her facial expressions seemed more aggressive. She insisted on dancing every single dance with him.
When the night ended, his feet were sore and he was ready for a good night’s sleep. He escorted Brigitta to her room. They stood at the door and she lowered her gaze to the floor.
He lifted her chin. The words felt dragged from the depths of his soul. “I promise things are going to change.”
Candlelight struck her eyes and they twinkled. “How so?”
“I can’t say yet. Just trust me.”
“When?” she added.
“Soon.”
She nodded and walked inside. The trust she displayed warmed his heart. He closed the door but didn’t lock it. Two footmen stood outside, with orders to escort Brigitta if she wanted to leave and not to let anyone in except Letta or himself. He couldn’t run the risk of Chadwick entering her room with him unawares and escaping with her in the middle of the night.
Assured that Brigitta was safe, he descended to the drawing room. Officers milled about, exiting the room in waves. Eligible women lingered, waiting for their fathers to stop conversing, and hoping the officers would ask to meet again.
Janet and Thomas stood in a corner, quietly conversing, and Luke joined them.
“Thomas, I’m glad you and Janet could stop by. The house has been oddly quiet of late.”
Janet snickered and Thomas sent her a scathing look. He attempted to smooth it over by saying, “Forgive Janet, she had something in her throat.”
“I don’t think so. I think there is something she wants to say but is hiding it. Perhaps she should just spit it out.” Cold fury rushed over him and Luke balled his hands into tight fists of restraint.
Janet spoke in a haughty manner. “That’s right, I do have something to say. I can’t believe you have the audacity to introduce me to your wife.”
“What?”
“Everyone knows what she does. She might as well be a kept woman.”
Luke looked back and forth between the two, his pulse pounding slowly in his ears. “What is going on here, Thomas?”
Thomas sighed. “I’m sorry you had to discove
r it this way, but the news is all over London that you keep a woman just to make money.”
Luke took a step back.
Janet’s look of cruelty left Luke feeling cold as she said, “You know what is so strange is that your little wife doesn’t seem to know what you’re using her for. When I questioned her, she looked at me like I’d lost my mind.”
“Thomas, as much as it pains me to say this, I think you and Janet should leave.”
Janet dropped her jaw. Thomas placed his glass on the table. “I’m sorry, my friend. Hopefully we will meet again under better circumstances.”
“I hope so as well,” said Luke.
He watched the couple leave his house and climb into their carriage. It pained him greatly that Thomas had believed the rumors even if they were partially true.
All the officers were either in bed or had left for the village by the time he strode to his room and climbed into bed. After tossing and turning, he finally settled and allowed sleep to overtake him.
****
Chadwick dropped the knocker and waited. A footman opened the door and escorted him to Lord Zedekiah Elis’ office. Lord Elis looked out the window and clasped his hands behind his back. The door clicked closed. He didn’t face Chadwick but spoke to empty air. “I understand you have requested an audience with me.”
“Yes, sir, I have.”
“And the purpose of this audience has to do with my daughter, Zilla?”
“It does.” Chadwick felt a nervous tingle race along his spine and he ran his unsteady finger around his tightening cravat.
“Mr. Andrews.”
Chadwick noted the change in title. He swallowed and placed one foot behind him in order to run at a moment’s notice.
“Mr. Andrews, your duplicity in regard to your title and name has recently come to my attention.”
Chadwick lifted his hand and opened his mouth to explain, but Lord Elis stayed him by raising his hand.
“I do not wish to make this affair public knowledge. The shame of having believed your claim to the peerage will only serve to make my daughter less desirable to other suitors. Therefore, I merely wish for you to leave my estate and never to return.”
Andrews Brothers 01 - The Ruse Page 19